An Afternoon With Collins
by GenuineAmy
Summary: preRENT: Mark and Collins spend some time getting to know each other. MarkCollins friendship.
1. Prologue: Morning

**Disclaimer: **I own not a notion. I rent. Though Rent may be starting to own me...

**This story is told in the time frame of three hours. Each hour will be a different chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

** Prologue: Morning--**

Mark Cohen had always been an early riser. Today was no exception. The sun peeking through the sheet, which served as a curtain, on his bedroom window roused him from his deep, dreamless sleep and he reached for his glasses on the crate that served as a nightstand. He sat up in bed, pulling the sheet away to look down over the alleyway that lay behind the building he had newly called his home. A week in the sparse, industrial loft on the corner of Avenue B with his best friend and new roommates had passed and Mark still didn't regret dropping out of Brown after his sophomore year. He loved New York City and he loved the Bohemian loft and he loved his roommates. Living with three other men in their twenties who believed more in their own personal art than in money or power, Mark felt right at home.

Hopping out of bed (not just because he was still happy about his new independent lifestyle away from his hen-pecking mother or the rigors of college life, but because he was a natural morning person), Mark headed for the kitchen area of his new apartment. Surprise etched itself on his sharp facial features when he saw his best friend and roommate sitting with a mug in one hand and a copy of the Village Voice in another.

"Well, I never expected to live to see this." Mark poured himself a cup of coffee and danced out of Roger's reach as the dark blonde extended a fist intended for Mark's arm.

"Yeah…if you don't shut up you won't live to see much else."

"Hey, hey, hey. What's with the Roger McCranky Pants this morning? Oh, right. It's _morning_ and you usually never wake up until the sun goes down. I never really believed in that vampire shit, but hey…you don't drink blood do you?" This time Roger's fist connected with Mark's arm. Mark just laughed.

"Just because I'm not disgustingly perky like _some_ asshole I know. I'm up early for a good reason. I'm heading out to look for some auditions and maybe partake in a few auditions. There's got to be at least one band out there that needs a rock god like myself," Roger drained the last of his coffee mug and quickly filled it again.

"I have never seen anyone drink coffee like you. You should just invest in an IV drip of caffeine. Oh, and don't get your head caught in the door on the way out. Jesus, Rog, talk about egotistical. That's like me referring to myself as the next Spielberg." Mark chuckled at the thought.

"You will be, but not with that attitude Negative Nancy." Roger placed his now-empty coffee cup in the sink and picked up his guitar case, "I'll be back around four. Benny left when I woke up this morning. He's overly ambitious don't you think?" Mark had known before Roger and Benny had met that Roger wouldn't take an instant liking to Mark's former dorm mate. And he'd been right. Though the thin ice that surrounded their conversations and actions was beginning to thaw, much to Mark's relief. He was just impressed that it had only taken a little less than a week.

"He knows what he wants. Can't blame a guy for that. I take it Collins is gone too?"

"Yeah, had his classes this morning. Said he'd be back around one. So it's just you, unless you want to tag along and capture my rise to greatness?" Roger wiggled his eyebrows playfully and grinned.

"I think I'll pass. I don't think your swelled head would fit the frame of my camera."

"Fuck you. See ya later!"

"Bye! And good luck!" Mark chuckled quietly to himself. Life was absolutely amazing right now. No classes, no pointless homework assignments, no schedule dictating his time. He was finally free.

Since he had the loft to himself, he took a slightly longer shower than he was used to. The cold water didn't sting as badly this morning. It was the middle of May and already the temperature was beginning to rise bringing with it balmy mornings. The kind of morning Mark liked best. They were always good for his most conducive thinking. As he dried off and dressed he organized what he wanted to accomplish for the day. A screenplay idea had been whirling around in his head for days, but with the rush to move in and the customary time spent with his roommates, he hadn't yet had the chance to write anything down.

Deciding that he would take full advantage of the silence in the loft, he finished his morning routine, grabbed a pen and notebook and flopped himself down in a chair. The pen flew across the paper as ideas and dialogue came faster and faster. He was barely able to keep up with his own brain. Five pages of the notebook were filled, then twenty, then fifty before he absolutely had to take a break. His hand was killing him. Getting up from his chair, he filled a glass with water and chugged it down. A quick glance at his watch told him it was after one in the afternoon and Mark couldn't help but smile. Last year at this time he had been running to get to his film theory class halfway across campus. Dropping out had been the best thing he'd ever done.


	2. 1:00pm to 2:00pm

**Disclaimer: **I own not a notion. I rent. Though Rent may be starting to own me. Also, I don't own the Monty Python skit which does exist. You can find it on and I highly recommend it. I laughed...really hard.. It's called "International Philosophy".

**1:00-2:00**

The loft door slid open with a bang and a tall African American man came bounding in. Mark jumped slightly startled. He hadn't known Collins very long, but he had never seen him this happy before. And Collins was always happy in the week Mark had known the man.

"Good afternoon fellow roommate. And a good afternoon it is. You see, I just had my last section for the semester and am officially done reading papers written by undergrads that couldn't pass a grammar test if their lives depended on it. No more snoring midway through my lecture, no more blank stares. Just three months of glorious celebration and a real chance to get some work done on my dissertation. Three beautiful months!"

Mark smiled, "So I take it we're celebrating tonight?"

"Why wait? Let's celebrate now! Hell, I already started," He pulled a bottle of Stoli from his coat pocket and waved it in front of Mark's face, "Get the glasses and I'll pour. We'll toast to summer. We'll toast to Bohemia. We'll toast to men. We'll toast to women, for you. We'll toast to your camera. We'll toast to all the philosophers that have ever lived. Who cares? Let's get piss-ass drunk!"

"Okay, okay. Let me get cups first." Mark laughed at Collins' giddiness. It was down-right infectious. As he placed the paper cups on the table and Collins began to pour, it dawned on Mark that this would be the first time he had ever spent time with Collins alone. Every other time they had been together, Roger and Benny were with them. They went to the Life Café for dinner together, took in the sights and sounds of the Cat Scratch Club together and played poker two nights in a row. But Mark had yet to get to know Collins without Roger and Benny around. This would be an interesting day.

Mark knew a few things about Collins. He knew that Collins was gay and that he was HIV positive. Collins had made those facts known the day that Roger and Mark had contacted him about moving into the loft. Bluntly, he asked them if that would be a problem and both had emphatic answers to the negative. Something like that didn't define a friendship and that was what Mark and Roger had hoped for from Collins. He appeared, at first blush, laid-back, intelligent and fun-loving. There was literally no way on this earth that a person couldn't like Collins. Mark came to that conclusion in the first five seconds of meeting him and so far, he hadn't been wrong.

"Here's to everything I mentioned before and to all other shit that matters. And to new roommates, searching for their purpose in the unforgiving, but amazing land of Bohemia" Collins raised his cup and tapped it with Mark's.

"Amen." One quick swallow and the vodka was gone and the cups were quickly refilled.

"Cohen. That sounds Jewish to me." Collins tossed back his Stoli and grinned.

"It is. Would you have preferred _Mazel Tov_?"

"Hey, whatever floats your boat. Who am I to say that you have to stick to the confines of religion?"

"Yeah, aren't you in favor of anarchy?" Both Mark and Collins collapsed on the couch, facing each other.

"Hell yes. Why should we, the people, be controlled by those who don't represent fairly the nation's population? We need a revolution. We need to rise up against the forces of organized politics and make them realize that we're sick of their party politics and we're not going to take it anymore!" Collins voice rose and his last words rang out triumphantly throughout the loft.

"Okay, so anarchy. Got that. What else gets Thomas B. Collins excited?" Mark figured that he might as well play the "get to know you game" as long as Collins was in such a sharing mood.

"A hot guy with a nice ass in tight jeans," Collins glanced at Mark and laughed, "Sorry, was that too much information?"

"I meant…well, I guess that qualifies. Maybe I should re-word my last question. What else are you passionate about?"

"What is this, twenty questions? If I have to play so do you. And being as I've already answered one of your questions, you get to answer one of mine. You and Roger? Friends or more?"

Mark laughed, " Fair. Just friends. Even if we did swing that way, we'd kill each other. He's been my best friend since junior high, so I know him a little too well to even fathom that idea."

Collins chuckled, "Yeah, I got the brotherly vibe when we first met. He's a good kid. Hopefully he'll keep his head in the game and get that record contract he wants so badly."

"We'll hear about when he does but until then we'll hear the bitching about it because it's taking longer than he likes. So, you've learned I'm straight. Next question is for you: What's the B stand for?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Oh come on! I won't repeat it. It can't be that bad. I guess it stands for Bartholomew." Mark grabbed the Stoli bottle off the table and poured himself the equivalent of three shots.

"I wish. That would have been conventional. I'll tell you, but I _will_ kill you if I find out Roger and Benny know," he leaned in and whispered it conspiratorially, "It's Bailey. After Bailey's Irish Cream. My parents were sick. They named me after a chocolate liqueur and a popular cocktail."

"Thomas Bailey Collins. I like it. No wonder you're a drunk now." Mark laughed and Collins joined in with deep chuckles.

They traded questions back and forth until they were too drunk to figure out whose turn it was or what number they were on. Somehow it had gotten around to film and philosophy and Collins was telling Mark about "the best thing he'd ever seen on television, when he had had a television".

"It was a Monty Python skit. A soccer match between Greece and Germany, but the players were all famous Greek and German philosophers. So they take the field, the whistle blows and they all fuckin stand there thinking. It goes on for some time, all of them wandering back and forth, thinking. Finally, Archimedes screams 'Eureka' and kicks the ball into the German's net. It was the funniest thing I'd ever fuckin seen. Those guys are geniuses."

"I'm a Monty Python fan myself. I agree, they are geniuses."

"What time is it anyway?" Collins rolled his head along the back of the worn couch to glance at Mark. Blearily, Mark looked at his watch and squinted to make out where the hands of the watch were sitting.

"Two o'clock…I think."

"Well, damn. There's still plenty of day left. Let's get out of this stuffy loft and partake in the benefits of sunshine and late springtime."

"We're drunk."

"Hell, boy. Like that's ever stopped me before!" Collins got to his feet and clumsily grabbed Mark's hands, "Let's go wreak havoc upon the unsuspecting residents of Alphabet City." Mark stood, wobbled slightly, and regained his footing. Drunkenly he stumbled to his room, while a confused but amused Collins watched from the doorway.

"Don't know what great film opportunities we might find." Mark said as he followed Collins out the door with his camera in tow.


	3. 2:00pm to 3:00pm

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rent or any of the characters or ideas associated with it.

**Thank you **to everyone who reviewed. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

**  
**

**2:00-3:00 pm**

The buzz of the vodka had worn off for Collins by the time they reached their first destination. Mark however was still feeling the effects.

"Why are we going to the Life Café? I mean, _again_? I've been here for a week and this is the _only_ place we have ever gone. I think I have the menu memorized." Mark drunkenly swerved to avoid walking into a homeless woman.

"Because as fun as it would be to watch you walk around drunk in New York City, I'd hate to see you break your neck and wind up in the hospital. And I think Roger would kill me. I mean I'm a big guy and everything; I can hold my own…But damn, he's protective of you. Eating will help soak up some of that alcohol" Collins reached out and grabbed Mark's upper arm before he fell off the edge of the sidewalk and right into a taxi, "Jesus, you're clumsy when you're drunk."

"Can't blame the booze for that Collins. I'm a natural klutz."

"Wonderful." Collins opened the door of the Life Café and beckoned Mark inside. The lunch rush had thinned out and for the most part, the restaurant was fairly empty. Mark couldn't help but be relieved; he didn't exactly enjoy being drunk in front of strangers, especially sober strangers. Then again, Mark had lost most of his ability to be embarrassed in college. Benny lived for practical jokes, mainly around midterm and finals time. Most of the time, however, it was Mark's own forgetfulness that brought about most of the embarrassing moments he'd ever lived through. Mark decided to share said moments with his new friend as they waited for their food.

"Since I'm feeling particularly honest and open today, want to hear about life in a dorm with Benny?"

"I was actually going to ask you about Benny. He's a conundrum isn't he? Likes the strippers at the Cat Scratch Club, but as soon as one hits on the guy he clams up and acts like he doesn't even care. I mean, I can see the appeal physically, but personality-wise…I can't quite figure him out."

Mark, who was finally coming down from his buzz, laughed, "It took me awhile to figure out why he is the way he is. I actually made it my own personal project during my second semester at Brown. I was living with this guy, who in my opinion needed some serious anti-psychotics, so I put in for a room exchange in December. The only available option was with a junior whose roommate had just graduated. I figured anything had to be better than Mr. I-like-to-talk-to-my-socks-and-they-like-to-talk-back, so I agreed and met Benjamin Coffin the III in January. I can truthfully say that we made good roommates. He wasn't pompous or arrogant; he greeted me and then asked me if I preferred, in my free time, to run around naked. So, I figured he'd also had a real doozy of a roommate. After spending time hiding from Josh, the sock-puppet master, living with Benny was great. Until I learned about his deep infatuation with practical jokes. That comes later in the story though. After I met Benny's parents I understood why he's so…as Roger put it this morning, "overly ambitious". His dad works in a factory and his mother works at a dry cleaners. I didn't mean to, but I overheard Benny and his dad fighting. Benny was telling him about his music management class and how much he loved it; hell, that was all he ever talked about so I was glad it wasn't me for once who was hearing about it. Benny's dad told him to keep his head in the game. He wasn't there for music or art; he was there for property management. I mean, my dad didn't exactly like the fact that I was a film student, but he never would have said some of the things Benny's dad said to him that day. He called him an "ungrateful little bastard", who didn't care how much it was costing his "hard-working parents" to put him through school. After that fight, Benny took only classes that were required and his electives were all business and property related. That fight changed him. I saw his parents at graduation and they looked so proud, but to tell you the truth, Collins, Benny isn't really happy. He doesn't want to look for a job in real estate. He wants to work in the music business."

"That's unfortunate, man. I was lucky enough to have very supportive parents. They supported me when I told them I was gay, they were my first call after I learned I was HIV positive and they fully supported my choice to study philosophy in school. No matter what they were proud of me and I took that for granted when I was younger. Now, I don't because of hearing stories about other people's parents. That does explain a lot about Benny though. And it also changed a few negative judgments I might have been harboring." Collins shook his head as he twirled spaghetti around his fork.

"Hey, even I changed some of my opinions about him. I can't seem to change Roger's mind though. I think it's because Roger didn't have the ideal childhood either. His dad ran out on him and his mom and sister when he was young, but I'm not going to talk about that because I know it's a sore spot and it's not my place. Roger doesn't like to talk about it, so I'm not going to for him." Mark dipped his spoon into his Miso soup.

"But you're perfectly willing to tell all about Benny."

"Hey, Benny isn't my best friend. Plus, Roger's problems are a little deeper than Benny's."

"Well, there's one thing left I want to know. I want to hear about these practical jokes."

"Oh yeah. Well, most were of the standard variety. Shaving cream in the hand, hand in warm water, which never worked by the way, the basics. He said that it helped relieve the stress of major exams. I think I lost the ability to be embarrassed though the day I was late for one of my classes and I came back in the afternoon to see a giant white sheet hanging from our windows advertising that "Mark Cohen is no longer a virgin. Sorry girls, you missed your chance." The joke was on him though. I hadn't been a virgin since my junior year of high school."

"Damn, now that is something I never would have expected from you. No offense." Collins laughed.

"None taken. I look like a geek, so it's to be expected. It was my junior prom and it was the worst experience I've ever had. She was the rabbi's daughter and it was…it was bad."

"Deflowering the rabbi's daughter! I'm looking at you in a whole different light Mark Cohen."

"Yeah, yeah. So did Roger. Who, coincidentally, lost his virginity after me. I've never seen him so jealous. The bad-ass rock star wannabe can't get any, but his nerdy friend can. And as his best friend and a _guy_, I didn't let him live it down for months." Mark placed a small tip on the table and followed Collins out of the café.

"So, you're not as innocent as I thought you were."

"Nope, and I'm not drunk anymore. Since lunch was your idea, I say we go somewhere where I can film. I dropped out of school for _this_." Mark hefted the camera in his hands. It felt so natural to be holding _it_ instead of a textbook.

"Well, it's almost three o'clock. Let's head over to Tompkins Square Park. I'm sure there's something of interest to film over there. Are you the type of filmmaker who watches people or are you more abstract? Do you like to film five minutes of a park bench set to some sad classical music?"

"I watch everything. I'm an observer. But I don't think I'm in the mood for park benches unless they have people on them."

"Good. Then let us go observe." Collins and Mark walked side-by-side down the street toward the park. A casual observer would notice the body language directed towards each other. They both acted as if they'd known each other for years, instead of days.


	4. 3:00pm to 4:00pm

**Disclaimer: **I own neither Rent nor any characters or ideas affiliated with it.

**A huge THANK YOU to all who reviewed!**

**3:00-4:00**

Mark panned his camera around Tompkins Square Park and finally settled it on a young couple sitting on a wobbly park bench. The sunshine had brought out people of every creed and color. The young man, studded and tattooed, flicked the camera off but a small grin spread over his lips. Mark figured that was a clear indication that he wasn't that pissed off about being caught candidly on camera. The young girl sitting next to him turned her striking red-haired head to look at whatever he had flicked off and seeing the camera, winked at Mark. Shifting the camera in his hands, he joined Collins on an even wobblier park bench.

"He reminds me of Roger." Mark said. A smile lit up his face as he thought of his best friend.

"Tell me about him." Collins draped an arm over the back of the bench and turned to face Mark.

"Who? That kid?"

"No, boy. Roger. I want to hear about him from the person who knows him best." Collins pulled the sunglasses off the top of his head and settled them on his face.

"What can I say about him? He's Roger. He grew up in Scarsdale, but he didn't transfer to my school district until seventh grade. That's how we met. Cohen and Davis naturally follow each other when placed in alphabetical order. Our seventh grade natural science teacher sat us next to each other, we were forced to talk through lab work, friendship formed and I guess the rest is history."

"Yeah, but what about him? That boy's got baggage."

"He's always had it. I told you his dad ran out on him when he was young. He spent the majority of his childhood and early adolescence taking care of his younger sister Audrey while his mother worked three jobs so they could keep their house."

"Did you two live close to each other?"

"Oh yeah. Three houses down from mine. I don't know how I even existed before Roger moved into town. Life was so boring. I usually spent most of my time playing Barbies with my older sister Cindy. Or other decidedly un-male activities. Please keep in mind that she was my _older_ sister and I had very little choice in the matter. Thank God for Roger. After he moved in, we were inseparable. My mom watched out for him and Audrey when his mom wasn't there, which was most of the time. Audrey is only a year and half younger than us, so she usually tagged along whenever we went places, like the park so that I could take pictures, this was before I had my video camera, and Roger could take his guitar and serenade the geese. Our moms took to calling us "The Three Amigos" or "The Three Musketeers". My dad even taught Roger how to drive. He and Audrey became honorary Cohens."

"Wow, that's pretty idyllic. Sounds like you were his lifesaver."

"Nah, we both saved each other. And taught each other a lot. He's my brother," Mark grinned, "He's just a little taller, a hell of a lot cooler, and has an all-around different genetic structure than I do. But if you're asking me to define him in one word, it's impossible. There are too many layers to Roger for just one word."

"He seems like the type who would be hard to describe. But I like him. Besides, anyone that you put so much trust in couldn't possibly be a bad person."

"I'm glad that you like him. He thinks pretty highly of you. And thanks for the compliment."

"I mean it. I'm an open person Mark. I don't say things I don't mean. I don't have the time too. My perspective on life changed after I was diagnosed. I think it's important to tell people how you feel. And I feel comfortable around you. I like you Mark, I really do. You've got a good head on your shoulders and I know that one day you'll be an amazing filmmaker. I'm glad that of all the people who could have been my roommates, I got you, Roger and Benny. I think we're going to have some fun. Selfishly, I'm glad that I have three more friends."

"I like you too Collins. And I'm glad that we're friends and roommates." Mark grinned and looked down at the camera in his hands.

"Boy, you're not going to blush, are you? Because that would make it look like I just hit on you or something. Which isn't to say I wouldn't if you were gay." Collins chuckled, expecting a shy, stammering response from the young man sitting next to him.

"No, I don't blush easily. But if you did hit on me, and if I were gay, I'm sure I'd be extremely flattered." Mark grinned back at Collins.

"You're a good kid, you know that?" Collins put an arm around Mark's shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze.

A comfortable silence settled between the two friends. Mark turned his camera on and continued to film the people around them. His eye trained on a shifty man standing in a shady corner of the park. Collins noticed what he was looking at and quickly moved the camera away.

"Don't film him."

"Why not?"

"That, Mark, is a drug dealer. They call him The Man. He's bad news."

"Collins, how would you know that? Do you use drugs?" Mark flinched immediately. It wasn't any of his business what Collins did.

Collins head turned swiveled to look at Mark, "You _must_ feel comfortable around me. No, Mark, I don't use drugs. Well, other than alcohol and the occasional joint…what's that look for? Okay! My daily joint. I like my weed. But I've never done anything harder than that and I don't plan too. I know who that is because I've lived here for a few years."

"I'm sorry Collins. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Boy, you didn't offend me. It takes a lot to make me mad. Don't worry, you're safe. So lose that "I-just-lost-my-dog" look." Collins slapped a hand on Mark's back and laughed. Mark just smiled.

"So, whatever happened with Audrey? Are you all still close?"

"Not like we were growing up. When Roger decided to move into the city, it caused a bit of a rift between the two. Audrey was angry at him for being a musician and "wasting his life" as she put it. She wouldn't speak to me after I dropped out of Brown. All I know about her now is that she's at NYU studying political science on a full ride."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But blood is thicker than just about anything. She'll get over it."

"Yeah, I hope so because Roger really loves and cares for her. He practically raised her. And you can tell."

"How's that?"

"She's got a mouth on her like a sailor on shore leave. Anyway, we'd better be getting back. Benny and Roger are probably wondering where we are." Mark stood and Collins followed suit.

"Yeah, you're right. This was fun though."

"Yeah, it was."


	5. Epilogue: Evening

**Disclaimer: **I own not a notion. I don't even rent. I borrow.

**THANK YOU** to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate it greatly.

**(Additional author's note at the bottom. Enjoy the ending!)****  
**

**Epilogue: Evening**

"So you really ran naked through the Parthenon? That's insane!" Mark laughed as he placed a frying pan on the stove. On their way back to the loft, Collins had insisted they stop in the grocery store and pick up something of actual substance for dinner. This way Mark was happy eating in and Collins, Roger and Benny were happy eating, period.

"Yeah, I can't believe I got away with it. Best ten minutes of my life though. I met the man of my dreams." Collins chuckled but Mark noticed the deep sadness in his brown eyes.

"There's more to that than what you're saying. I mean, you don't have to tell me. It's not my business, but I'm sorry for whatever he did that made you so sad." Mark met Collins eyes once and then turned back to buttering bread for grilled cheese.

"No, it's fine. I mean, well it's not fine."

A pregnant pause, and then Collins spoke again. His voice was soft and filled with sorrow, "He was the man of my dreams, but he's also the reason I'm HIV positive today."

"I'm sorry Collins." Mark turned back around, his face sympathetic.

"I've come to terms with it. I wasn't angry about the HIV. I mean, I wasn't jumping up and down with glee, but I wasn't angry. He was a fellow undergrad from a private school near UPenn. After the Rome trip we kept in touch and he was my first real relationship. He was the first real person I'd ever truly loved, so I guess I thought the HIV was worth it. He died two years ago." Collins' head practically touched his chest and he sat very still.

Mark wanted to hug him, to tell him he'd be fine, but even after learning a small amount of information on AIDS and HIV he knew there was nothing that he could say to make that statement true. Collins would never be fine, but he would live as long as he took his medications and kept himself healthy. So instead of empty words on grief, something Mark didn't have much experience with, or hollow-sounding reassurances, Mark placed his hand on his roommate's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Collins reached his hand up and placed it over Mark's, returning the squeeze.

"Come on. Enough wallowing. If we don't have dinner done by the time Benny and Roger get back, there'll be verbal hell to pay." Collins stood and went back to ripping up lettuce for an impromptu salad.

Mark smiled and started placing buttered bread in the frying pan. Both he and Collins worked diligently in silence until a stack of grilled cheese and a big bowl of lettuce, with carrot and green pepper sat on the long silver table. Just as Mark set plates down next to the salad, the loft door slid open. Both Benny and Roger entered, Benny talking animatedly and Roger looking as if he were refusing the reflex to roll his eyes.

"Honey, I'm home!" Roger yelled, unnecessarily.

Mark rolled his eyes, but laughed, "Looks like things went well for Benny. What about you?"

"Wait, wait, wait. Dinner is still hot, so tell us over _it_." Collins pointed to the table and smiled.

"Damn, you two have been busy. Thanks for dinner." Benny said as he grabbed a plate.

"Seriously, thanks. This was awesome of you guys." Roger smiled at both Collins and Mark and headed for the table. Collins slapped his hand against Mark's back and smiled, pushing him toward the food.

During dinner Mark and Collins learned that Roger had had a very productive day; he was now the front man of a band called "The Well Hungarians". The bad joke was not lost on any of the roommates and groans and "Oh, that's just _bad_!" filled the loft. Benny was starting an entry-level position with Westport Grey Realty and his first big event was a dinner party at the Grey family estate. He was to escort Mr. Grey's youngest daughter, Alison.

"So what did you guys do today?" Roger asked in between bites of his grilled cheese.

Mark looked at Collins and together they broke out into huge smiles.

"Just had lunch and got to know each other a little better." Mark said as he speared a tomato with his fork.

"Nothing big," Collins said nonchalantly. He met Mark's eyes and winked imperceptibly. Mark gave a small, secretive smile in return.

Later that evening, as Mark lay in bed, he recounted the day's events. After dinner, the loft mates had cracked open a new bottle of Stoli for the sole purpose of celebration. Collins re-celebrated his last day of classes, Roger celebrated his new band and Benny celebrated his new job. As Mark raised his glass to announce his celebration, he paused. He hadn't really done anything tremendous today. He had written half of a half-decent screenplay, but without a major studio picking it up it wasn't worth mentioning. He had gotten drunk, but that didn't warrant any revelry. Thinking hard and quick, his mind raced. Then it hit him like an eighteen-wheeler and had been standing right in front of him the entire time: Collins. He had made a great new friend today. So he raised his glass, smiled and very softly said, "To new friendship, old friendship and very old friendship. Here's to a community of friends." Collins, Benny and Roger all smiled and tapped their paper cups against each others.

Lying in bed, Mark smiled. Life was certainly very different now. For the first time in a long time Mark couldn't wait to get up in the morning, early as usual, and start his day all over again.

**Post-Epilogue: Time Flies**

One year later the loft was the same, except for the addition of Roger's new girlfriend April. While going through his earlier New York City films, Mark would find himself startled to see that he had already met April. She was the redhead with the Roger-like guy that Mark had filmed in Tompkins Square Park on his first afternoon with Collins.

Two years after moving into the loft, Mark knew grief and he knew love. April had killed herself in the bathroom and Roger was going through heroin withdrawal and now infected with HIV. Collins had a new job at MIT and Benny spent more time with his girlfriend Alison Grey than he did at the loft. Love for Mark came in the form of a fiery, spunky brunette Maureen Johnson.

Three years after moving in both Mark and Collins met Angel. Maureen was out of the picture, so Mark used Angel as his new muse. His irrelevant screenplays were discarded for a more relevant documentary about the homeless and those with AIDS. In that same year, the Bohemians lost Angel but they didn't lose Mimi. Roger's brief trip to Santa Fe and his words to Mark weren't forgotten, but all was forgiven. Mark stopped forcing himself to detach from pain and grief and finally confronted years of emotions.

Five years after moving in Roger was without Mimi and Mark was nearly without Roger. After a scary bout of pneumonia, where Mark prayed every night not to lose his best friend Roger pulled through and stopped mourning his beloved Mimi and instead chose to enjoy the life he was given to live.

Eight years after moving in Collins passed. Mark was heartbroken and no matter how hard he tried, there was no way to detach from his emotions. It seemed as if his eyes were filled with a river of never-ending tears. At the funeral he refused to stand close enough to the grave to see the casket and had sat outside the church during the service. His mind told him that Collins was really gone, but his heart refused to believe it. After six months, Roger had yelled at him to go see Collins and Mark had finally gone. He stood in front of the grave and sobbed. It _was_ true. Collins was dead and there was nothing that Mark could do to change that cold, hard fact.

Ten years after moving in, Mark was moving out. His first documentary had won an Academy Award, he was married to the woman of his dreams and she was pregnant with their first child, a baby girl. Alphabet City was no place to raise a baby, so Mark had purchased a beautiful house in Long Island. Roger would be living with them in the guest-house. Mark's wife didn't mind much that her husband was bringing his best friend with them; Roger _was_ her older brother after all.

Thirty-five years after moving into the loft, a date that was engrained in Mark's brain , much like his wedding anniversary and the birthdays of his three daughters, Mark returned to the loft alone. It had been recently vacated and as he moved from room to room he could swear he heard Collins' deep chuckle and the familiar strains of Musetta's Waltz coming from Roger's Fender guitar. Roger was now gone and Mark kept in sporadic touch with Maureen, Joanne and Benny. Memories filled his mind, but the one that wouldn't leave him alone was his memory of waking up in his room and spending that first real day at the loft with Collins.

Mark set a paper bag on the slightly dusty floor and pulled out a bottle of Stoli. Pouring a little into a paper cup he lifted it in the air, looked to the ceiling and said softly, "I miss you all so much. I never stop thinking of you and I'll never forget you. I love you all." Lifting the cup higher he whispered, "Here's to a community of friends."

_**FIN**_

_**Author's Note **_

_**Hey readers and writers--**_

_**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I want to apologize for the lapse in my writing. I'll try to keep this short, but everyone who reads this, especially my faithful followers, deserve an explanation. I've just got over pneumonia, I had classwork and catching up on classwork, and then finals followed. I'm now on Winter Break (a Happy Be-lated Holidays to all and Happy New Year) and my internet is absolutely terrible here at home. Updates will be few and far between, especially on "A Family Affair" which I assure you I haven't abandoned. I ask for your patience and understanding. I end my litle author's note with a final thank you for reading.**_

_**--GenuineAmy  
**_


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